


That Sweetness That You Bring

by Django_Fett



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, All the tiny references to the fun things, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Body Play, Smut, Substance Abuse, quick fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Django_Fett/pseuds/Django_Fett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was new knowledge to him that elves didn't fuck for fun, hardly at all in fact..."</p><p>When Bard and Thranduil spend a night of bliss together, it's only natural for the King to want to truly feel what it is to lose control...</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Sweetness That You Bring

**Author's Note:**

> Written very quickly in an attempt to get back in the literary saddle

Thranduil was drunk, mind utterly lost in the intense mixture of questionably herbal tokes and dry red wine. In these moments, moving was as though falling through water, everything too fast and too slow all at once. 

He was drowning in the sounds of his heavy breathing and too harsh laughter. The Elven King's teeth were repeatedly digging into his lower lip between gasps, hips swaying against the riptide of heat in his groin as Bard covers the skin of his neck with hot, wet kisses. The Man's hands were gripping and trailing all over his lithe body, dragging the skin of his face roughly as his pinching nails left chinks of white on his hips, pulling their naked bodies closer as though trying to melt into one through the heat they were creating.

"Fuck me," Thranduil was wantonly thirsting for this, snarling between biting teeth and breathless moans, "Fuck me till I can't fucking move, Fucking-" he gasped as Bard twisted his fingers tightly into his scalp and roughly turned him so that they were no longer facing. Bard pulled, and Thranduil cried out until his shuddering pants were being swallowed in another hot embrace, their sweat coated torsos creating a dirty lubricant against each others skin.

They were hard against each other as their bodies, still standing, twisted and arched in an embrace, coiled in the blurred heat of the room. Thranduil was keening, the willing sub to the bowman, ready, wanting. With his parted legs and pale arched back, he was as though an angel corrupted.

"Legolas is sleeping just across from us," Bard purred through gritted teeth, Smirking with an open mouth as Thranduil arched his back and whimpered. Bard lightly skirts his fingernails down across the mans pale hips to stroke at Thranduil's twitching cock, "Does it make you feel shame?" The man hissed, gripping at his waist and pushing the man forwards, suddenly thrusting into Thranduil with a force that gained him a sudden harsh cry of bliss. 

"Don't," Thranduil chokes out, "mention him." He clenches his eyes shut, no longer able to hold back a shuddering moan, further failing to ignore the way he's grinding back against the mans gyrating hips. 

"Why?" Bard whispers, leaving a trail of fluttering kisses across his shoulders, "I like the way you blush"

With a final hot kiss, he pushes his fingers up into Thranduils scalp and fucks the mewling man, forcing his head down onto the large bed in front of them. With a heavy breath, he reaches under the elfs soft hips and pulls his arse up higher against his cock. He can hear the trembling, shallow pants of the elven king against the thick, plum coloured sheets. It was new knowledge to him that elves didn't fuck for fun, hardly at all in fact, that pleasure was only experienced when a child was wanted. 

The King strained a little against the intrusion at first, clawing his fingers into the covers before rocking helplessly, uncontrollably back onto Bard's cock. It had never been like this before, building to this kind of pleasure so quickly. Bard leans down to take a short, gasping breath, before driving the sharp points of his teeth past the wet tangle of blond hair and into the flesh of Thranduil's collar bone.

The pain was immediate, exquisite, the sensation so overwhelming that the blond couldn't help but cry out and reach under himself to tug at his weeping cock. Pleasure and pain became all he could feel, taste and smell, irresistibly fuelling the growing, coiling fire in his groin. He pushes himself up with one arm, closing his eyes and revelling in the filthy smacking of skin on skin, the familiar sparks of a growing orgasm that shivers and soars between his stroking fingers and painfully hard erection. 

"An ngell nîn," Thranduil whimpers, head and body quivering on the brink of near release. "Finish me, Finish me ple-" The kings back arches and with a silent cry, collapses down back on the bed, still stroking as thick shots of cum gush over his fingers.

Bard eases his thrusts as the boneless man beneath him stills. With a feather light smile, he pulls out and gently turns Thranduil onto his back, softly sinking down and enveloping Thranduil's drowsy, smiling head with his arms. The elf reaches up with a rare tired smile and brings the Bowmans face down till their lips meet, surrounding his body in the warm softness he brings. Thranduil lifts his hips once more and releases a fluttering sigh as Bard slowly re-enters him. The change in pace is significant, no longer fierce in his sex, instead cradling the elf in his arms and rocking him gently into a second oblivion.

They make love like this for a short while, losing themselves in the hot breath they breathe against each others skin, the slow over stimulation that carries them away until all they see are stars and a heavy, smothering red. Bard comes to the sweet, whisperings of Thranduil against his skin, gentle murmurings of nothingness that see him into bliss and once more he brings their lips together in a final, breathless kiss.

As they both lay there silently, legs damp and entangled, resting in the musky scent of sex and post orgasmic bliss, Bard softly hums to his lover as he dozes. Easing him into his arms as though afraid of the distance sleep would bring. The bowman presses a faint kiss to the blondes forehead and sighs, hazily drinking in the innocent, sleeping smile and gentle breaths of his partner. Slowly the Bowman's eyes gradually close, comforted in the knowing that their hearts, elven and man, were beating the same beat.


End file.
